After the End
by IkaShika
Summary: Death is not always the end, but sometimes the beginning of something new.
1. The Land of the Dead

**AN: Hello! This is an Eric and Alan fanfiction (not an Eric/Alan) that is mostly Alan-centric, taking place after they died at the end of KuroMyu 2. Because they're too cute to kill off at the end and then never hear from them again! I might continue this depending on what kind of feedback I get; this 1st chapter is to test the waters. I'd love to get suggestions on how I can improve! That being said, please enjoy! :)**

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><p>"<em>Are you going to keep breaking your promise to me?"<em>

"_ALAN!"_

"_Kill me, demon… please kill me…"_

"_Nothing has meaning anymore…"_

Alan felt a cold surface under his body. The air around him was warm, but not too warm. He knew he had died, he remembered Eric cutting him with his death scythe and holding his fragile body close as his consciousness slipped away.

Alan slowly opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. The world was a white void with no beginning or end. There was no sun, but it was still fairly bright; Alan had to squint a little. A few other people wandered about, wondering where they were. But the small reaper knew very well where he was.

He was in Limbo. Where deceased souls waited to be judged and brought to the afterlife.

Alan sighed and looked down at himself. He looked the same as he was before, small and frail, only with no marks on his body from the thorns. This was his soul after all, physical ailments and injuries made no marks on this form.

Injuries. He flashed back to Eric. His beloved partner had been killing people to save him from the thorns, and yet the tall, strong blonde had been the one to pierce his heart with the sharp blade of his own. Alan could remember desperately trying to protect Ciel Phantomhive, to prevent Eric from killing anyone else. Sadly, it had resulted in the loss of his life.

Alan sniffed. He still cared about Eric, even after all he had done to him. The lies, the betrayal, the bodies… Alan forgave him for all of it. Tears welled up in his bright green eyes and threatened to roll down his pale cheeks.

"Eric…" Alan sobbed shakily, the tears overflowing from his lower eyelids. Even though Alan had forgiven Eric, they were as far apart as two people could be. He was dead and Eric was alive. He would never be able to let Eric know that everything was okay. Death really was the end, Alan realized. The end of all contact from those you love, the things you love, the job you love. Nothing existed for you, all that's left is to be sorted and judged.

The clacking of footsteps began to approach Alan. No, he thought, I'm not ready to go on. I can't die without letting Eric know everything. "Please don't," Alan begged through his tears, his normally calm voice breaking. The footsteps stopped in front of him. "Please, don't take me away yet. I- I need to tell someone special something very important…"

"By any chance, would that someone special be me?"

Alan's eyes widened. The voice that graced his ears was a smooth, strong one, dripping with a cool confidence and a casual air. But the owner of that voice couldn't be here; this was the realm of the dead, and this person was still alive. Alan raised his head to look at the one that had approached him.

Sure enough, it was Eric Slingby. His partner and friend.

"Eric…?" Alan's voice broke; the entirety of his small body filled with disbelief.

"Yeah." The large man replied, smiling down at Alan.

"B-But how? Weren't you alive?" Alan shakily got to his feet, looking at Eric's calm, green eyes. He had never seen Eric so at peace.

"Clearly I'm not." Eric replied, chuckling sadly. "I died right after you did."

"How?" Alan grew less shocked and more upset. "Did William find you? Did that demon kill you? What happened, Eric?"

The one in question did not reply. He instead shuffled his feet and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Alan knew this stance; Eric always acted like this when he had an answer to one of Alan's questions that he knew Alan wouldn't like.

"The latter." Eric sighed. "Sebastian killed me."

Alan didn't think that this was the whole story, but he wanted so badly to believe whatever Eric said. "Okay." He replied, nodding firmly. "Okay."

The two stood there in silence. What Alan had wanted to tell Eric vanished in the presence of the man. He didn't think that Eric would die anytime soon, so he had no time to prepare the words and the feelings.

"I'm sorry." Eric was the one to shatter the quiet. "I'm so sorry, Alan. For killing all of those people, for killing you. I was only trying to save you, and yet I was the one who ended your life." The tall blonde man began to quake, tears streaming down his face.

A well of pity formed in Alan's heart. His strong, confident Eric was reduced to a sobbing mess; almost nothing could do that. He really was sorry, Alan realized. The words he had lost came to him in the simplest of manners, and he acted on it.

"It's okay, Eric." Alan glided over to his partner and gave him a big hug. He could feel Eric tense up, clearly surprised. Alan grabbed his bearded chin gently with his thumb and forefinger and lifted Eric's tear-stained face to his own. "Everything is alright." The sincere gesture combined with the smile Alan gave was enough to convey what he had felt. To let Eric know that all was forgiven.

"Alan…" Eric choked, and returned the loving embrace. His muscular arms held Alan's slender form perfectly, fitting the two together like puzzle pieces. Alan found himself crying again, overwhelmed by the comfort. Everything was okay now. They could be together forever; nothing would tear them apart again.


	2. Escorted

**AN: Thank you for the reviews and favorites! I'm glad to know that my story is well-received so far!** **With that being said, here is the next chapter!**

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><p>"So what now?" Eric asked. They were now sitting down in a different area of Limbo. After the hug, the two of them decided to explore the afterlife for themselves, as neither had faced it before. Hand in hand they had explored the white abyss, occasionally running into a confused soul or two. No matter where they went, it all looked the same. Bright, empty, and void of any living thing. It was like being shut in a tomb- a very large, white tomb.<p>

"I'm not too sure." Alan replied, brushing some hair out of his face. "Judgment, I suppose. But who knows when that will be; some souls have waited over 20 years to be judged."

Eric paled a little at the beginning of Alan's sentence, but he quickly regained his composure. "That so?" He commented, relaxed. "Hopefully we won't have to run into any angels or demons for a long time."

"Demons?" Alan tilted his head at his partner curiously. "Why would either of us come into contact with demons?"

Alan was too naïve, Eric thought. He killed 1,000 people all for the sake of Alan, and that included Alan himself. His sins would not go unpunished. Though he longed to be with his cheerful little friend, there was a chance that he would end up separated from him forever. Alan was pure; he was bound to go to heaven. But as for him…

"Eric?" Alan noticed that Eric had spaced out. The larger man jumped.

"It's nothing." Eric shook his head. "There's no reason why either of us would run into demons." He shot Alan one of his casual smiles. Eric decided to lighten the mood by turning the smile into an outright ridiculous grin, teeth shown and eyes bugged out.

"You're so silly, Eric." Alan returned the grin, giggling slightly.

"Glad I can amuse you." Eric replied. He proceeded to make a few more funny faces at Alan, who laughed as though he were a small child amused by the antics of a parent.

"Eric Slingby. Alan Humphries."

Both reapers froze. They hadn't noticed someone come up behind them. Eric's goofy face turned stony cold as he and Alan turned to see who had addressed them.

It was a man, or rather two men. They were both tall and well built, with jaw length sandy hair hidden under decorated helmets. Both of their bodies were incased in ornate silver armor that extended from the chest to their ankles. Both of their faces bore emotionless expressions, although one looked sharper with a hooked nose and the other had more rounded features, which made him look more innocent.

"Who are you?" Alan asked, getting to his feet.

"We are the escorts." The sharp man spoke. He turned out to be the one who had called their names moments before. "Here to take you to the Judge. He will determine whether you go to heaven or hell."

"Isn't this too soon?" Eric spoke, sounding annoyed and… fearful? Alan couldn't tell. "We just got here. There's normally a sort of waiting period, isn't there?"

"Shinigami are always top priority when it comes to judgment." The other man said. "Now come on." He and his partner grabbed hold of Eric and Alan respectively and clamped cuffs on their wrists.

"What are these for?" Alan squirmed a little as the cold steel cut into his flesh. "We're not prisoners!"

"It's so you don't try to escape or attack us during your transport." The hook-nosed man answered.

"We'll cooperate!" Alan protested. "I have no intention of running away! And Eric doesn't either!"

Eric nodded. Unlike Alan, he wasn't fighting against the cuffs.

"Precautions, I'm afraid. Some souls get violent." The hook-nosed man replied. "Please bear with it." With that, the two escorts began to walk at a great pace, dragging the former reapers with them.

Alan could only sigh and stumble along as they made the trek to wherever they were going. He had never seen the place of judgment for himself, after all the first time he died he had been made into a shinigami. Alan stole glances at Eric every so often, who was going along with the guards compliantly. There were no signs of struggle on his face. In fact, the expression he wore could only be described as a miserable acceptance.

Alan's feet began to feel sore after what must have been 40 minutes of shuffling along. His arms hurt from the cuffs; he was dying for them to be removed. But any pleas the small reaper made were dismissed, his escort declaring the bondage as 'protocol'. Well they could screw their protocol, as far as Alan was concerned. He wanted the shackles off.

A building became visible in the distance. Alan squinted as the structure got closer and closer- before he knew it, the four of them were standing in front of an ornate white palace, covered in intricate carvings and large, spiraled columns. There were no windows, just a large double door that appeared to be made of marble like the rest of the structure. A statue of an angel and a devil were placed next to the decent sized staircase that led to the entryway.

"You will be judged here," Alan's escort announced. The aforementioned man could only stare in awe at the tremendous building.

"Please move toward the front doors." The sharp man nudged Alan. He yelped as he was ripped from his trance and brought back to reality. Not wishing to be dragged again, Alan carefully followed the guard's lead up the stairs and to the doors. They were larger up close; the fine marble was at least twice Alan's height.

The baby-faced escort brought Eric next to Alan, or rather went to stand beside to his partner. Alan didn't care, he wanted to see Eric. He turned to look at his partner and friend. The tall man looked quite ill, much to Alan's surprise.

"Eric?" Alan asked, concerned. "Are you alright?"

"Huh?" Eric shook his head and stared at Alan. "Oh, I'm alright." He shot a grin at him.

He smiled back. "Good. I'm a little nervous, I suppose."  
>"You shouldn't be. You're the purest person I've ever met. You'll be fine."<p>

Alan looked hopeful. "You think?"

The doors creaked open. Eric turned pale at the sound, but gulped hard, knowing he had to be strong for Alan. "Of course. You have nothing to worry about." He reassured. Alan found comfort in his best friend's words, and the two of them walked side by side into the labyrinth of a palace.


	3. Judgment

When they entered the building, they found it as intricate as the outside. Archways decorated the hallway leading to a grand room. The walls were covered in white detailing; both the walls and the floor were made of fine marble. The escorts stood closely behind the two former shinigami as they approached the end of the path. _This was it,_ Alan thought. _This is where we are going to be judged. When we get to the judge of the dead, who knows what we'll face?_

The hallway led to another large set of double doors, similar to the ones outside. Both escorts pushed the doors open at the same time, revealing a large room inside and an earsplitting creak from the doors. Upon arrival in the room, Alan found that there was nothing in there except for a 10-foot tall desk and a rather bored looking middle aged man behind it. The wide, pale marble room caused the desk to look to scale; Alan felt like an ant in comparison

"Who do we have today?" The older man spoke. His voice was much more mature and powerful than Alan had expected.

"The shinigami, sir." The hook-nosed man replied. "Alan Humphries and Eric Slingby."

"I see." The man took out two books, about the size of Doomsday books. This was it, Alan realized. He and Eric were about to be judged.

The escorts removed their handcuffs, relieving the pain in Alan's thin wrists. Eric rushed over to Alan the moment he was free.

"Are you alright?" Eric asked, worried. "You seemed in pain and uncomfortable on the journey."

"I'm fine, Eric." Alan brushed off Eric's concern. He was far too used to it, and it was all unnecessary.

"Good." Eric sighed before looking at the judge uncertainly. The judge cleared his throat, ready to speak.

"I am the judge of the dead." He explained to the two shinigami. "I go by many names. However, since you will be here for a brief time, you don't need to address me by any of them. A 'sir' is fine."

"Yes sir." Alan and Eric said in unison.

"I will be reviewing your cinematic records and taking note of everything that is recorded in them and these Doomsday books." The judge gestured to the two books with his heavily calloused hand. "Based on what is written in here, I will decide whether you are to go to heaven or hell."

Alan nodded in understanding. The judge seemed to be satisfied.

"I'll start with you, Alan Humphries." He picked up the thinner of the two books and opened it. Cinematic records poured out of the leather bound book and flew all over the room. Alan stared in awe at his own memories flowing freely around him. Having been a shinigami for many years, he had the process of death memorized. Although no matter how much he understood about it, being the one to die was much different than observing someone else dying. The thin film strips swirled around Alan, trying to go back into their owner, but the judge pulled it back to ensure that he was not caught in its snare.

Alan began to shake as the judge started sifting through the long reels of Alan's life. Eric wrapped an arm around him, which calmed Alan slightly. He could see the start of his life as a human playing out.

Alan was a weak boy, but very kind and caring. He brightened the lives of everyone who came into contact with him. He cared for stray animals and people who had been cast aside by society, bringing some light into their dark lives. However, he always felt alone, as his parents favored his ill younger sister over him.

Her death was shown, and Alan found himself reliving the grief he had felt. A tear fell, and Eric wiped it away. Alan became reassured knowing that his best friend was there with him to support him through this.

Alan had died young of the flu, and was brought to the shinigami realm to become a reaper. Alan graduated top of his class, despite contracting the Thorns of Death during his final exam, and was assigned to work with Eric. He smiled at the memory of meeting his partner and looked at the man beside him. Eric returned the smile, squeezing Alan's hand. The two of them were shown working together through thick and thin, sitting in the Erica field where they first forged their bond, tearing through mountains of paperwork, and long nights talking about Alan's disease and how they were going to make the best of the ill reaper's remaining years.

Then came the all too painful memories of uncovering Eric's horrible deeds, the opera, and the confrontation. Alan bit his lip as Eric's hand began to slip out of Alan's. Alan gripped the hand harder, letting Eric know that this was only a memory and he did not hold a grudge. Finally, Alan was shown jumping in front of Eric's scythe and being sliced. The record concluded.

The judge nodded thoughtfully as he placed the record back into the book. "Mr. Humphries, you seem to have led a good and honest life. Better than a lot of people I've seen. And your work for the Shinigami Dispatch Society was exemplary."

"Thank you." Alan bowed politely. His body became chilled with nervousness.

"Based on what I've seen here, I conclude that you are a good and honest man, who is eager to stand on his own and prove his strength. You have proven yourself well throughout your life, Mr. Humphries." The judge smiled at Alan. "Therefore, I have decided that you will be going to heaven."

Alan let out a squeak of surprise, from both the verdict and Eric crushing him in a huge bear hug.

"Thank goodness, Alan!" Eric said, excited. "You deserve this. You'll never be in pain again!"

"Heaven…" Alan let out a nervous chuckle. "It's great, but I don't know what I'll do once I get there."

"Don't worry." Eric released Alan and patted his friend's back. "You've got an eternity to figure out what you want to do."

Alan smiled at the contact. Eric always knew how to make him feel better.

"These two will escort you to heaven." The judge interrupted them and gestured to the right, where a shining gold portal appeared. Two angels stepped out of the light surrounding it, their white hair and purple eyes making them identifiable as agents from paradise.

"Angels will take me there?" Alan looked at the holy beings. They wore serious expressions on their faces.

"Yes. After all, you are in their jurisdiction now." The judge took out Eric's book as the angels went forward to take him.

"Wait."Alan backed away. "Please wait a minute, sir. Can I please stay for Eric's sentencing? Since he was here to support me through my judgment, I want to be there for him." He looked at the judge pleadingly while Eric looked at Alan with surprise.

"I don't see why not." The judge shrugged. "But do not argue my verdict with this man."

"Of course I won't." Alan smiled thankfully as the angels backed off. He went to stand next to Eric, giving his partner a supportive nod.

Eric smiled at Alan nervously as the judge opened the smooth brown book that contained the life of Eric Slingby. The records spilled out, pouring from the pages out onto the desk and the cold marble floor, covering the surfaces in filmstrips. The stern-faced judge began replaying them for all to see. Eric looked down at the ground while Alan gazed in astonishment at what he saw.


	4. Verdict

**AN: I want to thank you again for all of the reviews and favorites! I'm glad to know that people support this story! Ika loves you all~ ^-^**

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><p>Eric was born to a poor mining family. He was sent to work at a young age, digging coal out of the hard rock in the dark caves. He didn't like this work, and he frequently got into trouble when he was on the job, be it lazing around or interfering with another's work. He was a rascal after hours as well, getting into fights on the street and drinking mad amounts of alcohol every night. Day in and day out it was the same thing: work, booze, fights. It appeared as though Eric was cursing his fate by rebelling against everything that tied him to the pitiful destiny of being alone in the mines.<p>

Alan felt a pang in his heart for his friend, and turned to look at Eric. Eric was facing the judge respectfully, trying to save face. But Alan could see the tears and fear in his eyes.

Eric's troublemaking in the mines eventually caught up with him, and he was caught in a collapse while goofing off. The strong man had died 22 hours later, and the reaper who came to retrieve him decided that Eric would make a fit shinigami. He took Eric to their world, and enrolled him in the academy.

Eric's marks in school were average with some disciplinary complaints in his file; nevertheless he was accepted as a shinigami. He did his job well, working his way through the ranks with relative ease despite his coldness. Eventually, Eric was assigned to be Alan's mentor. The formerly distant shinigami became close to Alan, and the two were inseparable. When he found out about Alan's illness, he didn't reject the frail shinigami. Eric kept him closer than ever, and frantically tried to find a cure.

Which led to the gathering of the souls.

Eric shook slightly as his records displayed him murdering the innocent for their souls. 1,000 souls were what it took to save Alan, and the deaths kept piling up, staining the scenery in the film with blood.

Neither the judge nor the escorts could believe what they were seeing. Eric, a lone reaper, was slaughtering countless humans for Alan's sake. The judge's eyes grew wide with horror; he had never seen so much death caused by one person. Alan noticed this, and began to grow fearful for Eric. He held on tightly to his best friend's hand.

More deaths piled up, more sins were being committed, causing the film to turn black. The more evil a person has done in their life, their record turns dark depending on the amount of sin. Given Eric's countless murders, it was no wonder that his record had turned pitch black.

He was shown making a deal with Druitt to collect more souls at a time, which led to the incident at the opera. He was so desperate that he made a deal with a heinous man. After he had run away, he began reaping as many fleeing bystanders as he could to get closer to his goal. Even after he and Alan had left and he promised to stop, he kept on reaping whenever he could. Finally, his greed for souls caught up with him, and he killed Alan by mistake when he was aiming for Ciel Phantomhive.

When Alan thought it couldn't get any worse, the next scene caused him to nearly scream with horror; he saw Eric begging Sebastian to end his life. The demon had done so, using Alan's scythe to do the deed. With that, the record concluded.

Silence enveloped the room. Nobody knew what to say or do. The judge looked mortified, the escorts were stunned, Eric had begun to tremble with tears running down his face, and Alan felt like vomiting. To think that Eric, his Eric had killed and lied and ruined so many lives while comforting Alan through his illness was too much to bear. And the fact that he begged a demon to end his life… why? Why couldn't he have owned up to his sins and taken responsibility for them? Eric would have been put to death anyway! But he stooped low enough to have filth like Sebastian eradicate him from the world of the living!

"Why?" Alan choked, trying to restrain his sparking emotions. "Why, Eric?"

Eric didn't reply. The large reaper simply stood there, crying silently. Alan knew the answer was most likely to be "For you", but that wasn't acceptable. Alan sniffed a little bit, trying to hold back his tears.

"Eric Slingby." The judge had calmed himself down enough to speak to Eric. "I for one have never seen a record so bloodstained or filled with pain as yours. You have stained your life with unfathomable amounts of sin. Killing 1,000 people for the sake of your partner, who you ended up murdering anyway."

Alan didn't like where this conversation was going. He was judging Eric by his actions, not on who he was. "It was all because he wanted to save me, sir!" Alan piped up, casting aside his bitter feelings and stepping forward to face the judge. "The murders were to try and cure my disease! And he didn't mean to kill me! It was a mistake!"

The judge glared at Alan. "I thought I told you not to interfere with my judgment."

"You're judging him wrong! Eric's intentions were pure! He wanted a chance to save someone dear to him!"

"And his actions before he met you? Was he trying to save someone then?"

Alan froze, panting heavily. "He was… trying to save himself. To survive in the place he hated most." Alan weakly replied.

The judge responded with a glare. "Really." He sounded unconvinced of anything Alan said.

"It's okay, Alan." Eric touched Alan's bony shoulder. "You don't have to fight for me."

Alan whirled around to face his best friend. "But he's completely wrong about you!"

"No… he's right." Eric sighed. "I'm a sinner."

"You didn't want to!" Alan clung to Eric's shirt. "And you didn't mean to kill me!"

"He struck you down with murderous intent. While not directed at you specifically, he would have killed someone else had you not interfered." The judge announced, trying to regain dominance in the conversation. Alan was about to retort, but Eric covered his mouth gently and shook his head.

"I have never seen a record so easy to judge." The judge announced. He drew the cinematic records back into Eric's book, stamped a seal into it, and slammed it shut. "Eric Slingby, you are sentenced to hell."

Alan's mouth dropped open in horror. Eric jolted at the slam of the book, but nodded in bitter understanding.

The judge gestured to the opposite side of the room, where a portal of dark fire emerged. Two demons exited from the portal, both with curled horns, red eyes, and decent-sized fangs. They had a humanoid appearance, but it was clear that they were not of the living world.

"These are your escorts to hell." The judge explained. The two angels drew back slightly with hands on their weapons, prepared to strike if the demons made a single move to suggest an attack.

"Understood." Eric spat. He began to walk toward the offending creatures.


	5. Parting

**A/N: Sorry for the wait! Life has not been very nice to me lately, so that got in the way of my writing****. Anyway, THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER! I have many more plans for Eric and Alan in here. Which I will try to do on a weekly basis. That beings said, please enjoy! ^-^**

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><p>"NO!" Alan screamed, grabbing his partner desperately. "Eric, how could you just go along with this?"<p>

"I committed unspeakable sins over and over again, Alan." Eric murmured, not returning Alan's hug. "I broke my promises to you, I killed over and over, I lied so many times… this is what I expected." He lifted Alan's chin up to face him. "I… I knew that this was my fate."

"B-But Eric…" Alan clung to Eric tightly. "You did it all… because-"

"The reason doesn't matter." Eric interrupted. He looked terribly sad. "No reason is good enough to condone what I have done."

"It doesn't matter!" Alan wailed, starting to cry into Eric's chest. "Eric… you're my best friend!"

Eric's face contorted into an expression of misery. He instinctively wrapped his arms around Alan's small frame and began to stroke his chestnut brown hair. Eric wanted to give Alan words of comfort, but he knew that it was impossible to be reassured in a situation like this. There was no upside in Alan's mind, and he knew it. The best he could do was give his frail friend these last moments in his embrace.

"These two sentences are finalized." The judge announced, shattering the atmosphere like glass. "Take them away."

Eric looked at Alan sadly, sniffing slightly. "That's our cue." He broke the embrace.

"No!" Alan sobbed, trying to hold onto Eric. "I don't want to leave you!"

"I don't either." Eric gave a shaky sigh. "But this is what has to happen."

The angels and demons approached the two reapers. Each one went forward, glaring at each other and at their respectful targets. Alan tried to back away from the approaching angels, but the two beings wasted no time in snatching up the small reaper. Alan squirmed, but he could not break their strong grip. At the same time, the two demons clamped their clawed, scaly hands around Eric's arms. Eric made no effort to shake them off, though he did look disgusted. The foul beasts began to drag Eric to the flaming portal from where they came. The portal to hell.

"NO! ERIC!" Alan screamed, desperately trying to break free.

"I'm sorry, Alan." Eric smiled weakly at him. "But I knew that this would happen. I'm prepared to accept the consequences of my actions."

"B-but Eric!" Alan kept fighting as he began to cry. "I wanted-"

"I know, I wanted to spend eternity with you too." Eric said. "But you're going to heaven; you'll do great."

The demons pulled Eric toward the menacing portal. Alan's angels took him gently in their hands. "This way." One said in a calm voice, and the two holy beings started to lead Alan toward the gaping hole to heaven.

Alan kept struggling, dragging his heels as best he could. He was horrified by the sight of the two monsters dragging Eric away, toward a place where no soul emerged alive.

"Stop!" Alan begged, looking at Eric. "I don't want to leave you!"

Eric looked as resigned as ever as he felt the portal draw near. "I don't want to leave you either. But we've always been alone, haven't we? We'll be alright. And you're going to paradise; you'll have a great time."

Alan couldn't believe what he was hearing. Eric had given up. "I wasn't alone when you were with me!" He desperately tried to reason with his friend. "I wasn't alone once you came to me! I don't want to go to heaven if I'm alone- away from you- again! I don't want to!"

"Okay, that's enough of that." The demons had grown impatient with the shinigami's banter and pulled Eric along quickly, arriving at the portal to hell. The flames leapt out of the cold, dark hole, sparking every which way and kissing Eric's skin. It felt the sinner, the wonderful sinner, and begged to devour it whole.

Eric stared at the portal and sighed. "You'll make new friends there. You'll find other special people." He turned around to face Alan, who was inches away from the gleaming orb of light that would take him to paradise. "People fade in and out of your life, Alan. It's my turn to fade away."

Alan's mind was on the verge of breaking after hearing Eric say that. "No! Don't- I can't-!" He broke loose of the angels and tore off toward Eric. "You're my most precious person, Eric! You always will be!" He was about halfway toward his partner when the angels caught up with him and restrained him. "LET ME GO!" Alan screamed, kicking and thrashing around, desperate to break loose.

"No. Now stop being stubborn." The holy beings took Alan back and pulled him back to the portal.

Eric gazed back into the inferno. Tears began to slide softly down his cheeks. "You don't know how happy that makes me, Alan. You were so precious to me too."

Alan couldn't bear the pain anymore. "Eric! Eric!" He cried out, still fighting against the angels. "I love you! Please!"

"I love you too, Alan." Eric's voice broke a little as the tears continued to flow from his eyes.

The portal widened to a size that was large enough to accept a person. The demons tensed their arms, preparing to chuck Eric into the flames.

Alan felt hopelessly weak. Even now, even when the thorns no longer affected him, he couldn't save his closest friend. All he could do was watch and fight as best he could. "I-I won't forget you, ever…" He quivered, sobbing violently. "I'm sorry… for everything…"

Eric turned around again to face Alan for what he knew would be the last time. "You did nothing wrong." The strong shinigami smiled through his tears. "You're pure. That's why you're going to heaven, a place where someone like me can't follow- a sinner."

"Eh, you're annoying." The demons scowled. They strengthened their grip, swung their arms back, and thrust Eric into the blazing inferno.

Alan's wail of horror was nothing compared to Eric's screams. The flames engulfed Eric, savoring their prey and new resident of the hell from whence they came. They scorched his body and wrapped around his limbs, entrapping him for eternity. Eric let out bloodcurdling screams as his flesh was burned off by some of the more aggressive parts of the blaze. He contorted into unnatural positions, trying to find a spot, just one spot, where the pain was lessened. White hot chains shot out from the fire, wrapping themselves around Eric. Unable to move, Eric could only shriek as he felt parts of his flesh melt off from the heat.

"Eric…!" Alan whispered in horror. The gruesome sight had paralyzed his brain. He shook violently at the sight of his partner, friend, and guardian being burned into something that couldn't even be called human.

Gradually, Eric's blackened limbs started to crumble into the intense inferno. His fingers turned black and fell off; creating a small cloud of ash that was engulfed by the flames. Parts of his legs cracked off where the chains were pinned against his body. His face was unrecognizable, only a few tufts of blonde hair signified that this man was Eric Singby. His flesh flaked off a tad as he moved his head, looking at what appeared to be Alan. Alan knew that if he could, Eric would be smiling at him to tell him it was all okay. Alan began to cry louder. The chains and flames were satisfied with their job, and they finally pulled Eric slowly into the depths of hell.

The room was silent once more, save for Alan's crying. The small reaper shook vigorously, horribly traumatized by what he had just seen. The judge, the demons, and the angels were completely unfazed, like Eric was a horrible person who deserved what he got. But NOBODY deserved that, Alan thought through his foggy mind. Nobody deserved to be sucked into the flames of hell. Especially not Eric- his kind, funny, charming Eric.

"Give him back." Alan stammered quietly. One of the angels looked at Alan curiously before being violently pushed aside. "GIVE HIM BACK!" Alan screamed at the judge. "GIVE HIM BACK TO ME! HE DIDN'T DESERVE THAT!"

The judge simply watched Alan with a calm expression on his face, as though he couldn't care less about what he was saying. And he didn't.

"No. My decisions are final." He boomed. "Take him away."

Alan felt the last string in his mind break. He slumped to his knees as the angels grabbed Alan gently and placed him into the portal.

The sensation was nice, like he was floating in a soft bed of light. A bubbling feeling engulfed him, similar to how one might feel if they stuck their finger into a glass of fizzy water. His body felt warm and comforted as the fizzing sensation continued; he could tell that he was going to heaven. But in his heart, there was no comfort or solace. The only thing that existed was a black pit of despair and anguish. Alan couldn't even pass a thought at the events that had just transpired. All he felt was the light and bubbles consuming him and taking him away. And the way he was now, Alan desired to be dissolved into nothing and exist in this empty space of light forever.


	6. Heaven

"Alan."

_Huh?_

"Alan."

_Someone's calling my name._

"Alan, are you awake yet?"

_No, I'm not awake. I never want to wake up again. _

"You've been out for a long time. 5 hours of rest isn't enough for you?"

_Only that long, huh?_ Alan frowned internally.

The voice that had been speaking to him sighed. "He's not waking up." It called out.

"Give him a break." An annoyed-sounding male voice replied. "Didn't you read his arrival report? The kid went through quite an ordeal."

"Oh." The first voice sounded guilty. "That report, yeah. Okay Alan, I'll let you sleep some more."

A shuffling sound was made, followed by soft footsteps padding away from Alan. The owner of the voice had left him, leaving the poor broken reaper to contemplate his surroundings.

Alan refused to open his eyes, but the soft smell of vanilla, smoke, and wood told him that he was in some sort of home. A small fire was crackling in the room, obviously the source of the heat and smoke smell. He was in a cozy bed, covered with blankets that were soft and thick, yet airy and light at the same time.

This was Alan's idea of a perfect room. In fact, it was too perfect. His heart fell further than it already had. _I'm in heaven._ Alan thought. _I've arrived._

He sniffed slightly, pulling the blankets over his head. He sniffed, shivering slightly from grief. He was in this comforting environment, and Eric was in the worst place one could possibly be. Alan let out a wail of grief for his beloved friend.

"Seeing something like that is always hard."

Alan jumped up and whirled around, opening his eyes to see the one that had addressed him. It was the owner of the second voice; he hadn't left the room when his friend did. He was of average height with curled white hair and narrow purple eyes. He had sharp features, giving him an almost threatening aura. But he was an angel, so the aura was one of peace.

"Who are you?" Alan asked weakly.

"Damacles." The angel replied. "I am an angel assigned to assist new arrivals. You've been asleep for a while, Alan Humphries."

Alan almost asked how Damacles knew his name, but since the sharp man was an angel, it was useless inquiring. "I never wanted to wake up." Alan hung his head and crawled back under the sheets.

"We all have to wake up. We can't pretend that whatever happened didn't happen." Damacles replied calmly.

Alan sniffed again. "It shouldn't have happened. Eric… Eric was a good man."

"It did happen, though." Damacles said. "We don't control who goes where. We only care for the souls that end up here."

"So you don't care about the ones that end up in hell." Alan grumbled.

"That's not true at all." Damacles replied. "We grieve soundly every time a soul falls into sin. Especially our Father. But it's ultimately up to the souls whether they go to heaven or hell."

"So this whole thing was Eric's fault?"

"Yes."

Alan was about to snap back at the angel, but found himself unable to. Damacles was right; Eric chose to sin. He chose to kill all of those people. And he knew the consequences that those actions would bring.

"You're right." Alan sighed, tears in his eyes. "But I still miss him…"

"Of course you do. He was close to you." Damacles came over to Alan's side. "But wallowing in your misery won't do anything. How about I show you around? At the very least, you'll understand more about where you are."

Alan lay in the bed for a few minutes before nodding hesitantly.

"Alright." Damacles helped Alan up and gestured around the room. "First of all, this is your home."

Alan blinked. "My home?" The room was as cozy as he had imagined, with the fireplace and the rich wood that created the walls and floor. A few pictures of flowers were perfectly hung, with a simple yet pleasing cedar green carpet that ran the length of the room.

"Yes." the angel replied, flipping a curl out of his face. "There is a living area past this door, which I will leave you to get acquainted with on your own time." Damacles proceeded to lead Alan through the bedroom and out the front door. Alan barely had a chance to look at the living room before being pulled outside. The small reaper's jaw hit the ground when he saw the world that was heaven.

It was a gorgeous kingdom, with gold streets and beautiful buildings carved out of white marble. Angels and residents alike wandered the streets, going about their days in paradise. Lush trees and soft green grass decorated the sides of the roads, along with brightly colored beds of flowers that emitted a sweet fragrance. The sky was the purest blue, with a bright yellow sun that bathed the whole world in a soft, warm glow. All around him, angels sung the Lord's praises, thanking Him for everything He had done for them. Their voices were rich in tone and were more pure and beautiful than any earthly choir.

"It's… This…" Alan stammered, unable to put the serenity and loveliness into words.

"Don't try to describe it." Damacles smiled slightly. "No words are able to."

Damacles led Alan through the streets, showing him all of the places he could go. Each building was just as glorious as the last, and there was a sense of peace all around. But even amongst all of this beauty and perfection, there was something missing. The hole in Alan's heart that wouldn't go away.

After the tour of the city, Damacles led him into a beautiful park. Paths were framed by large cedar trees and they were covered by a soft, deciduous forest floor. They walked along to sit by a fountain, which had five angels blowing trumpets carved into it. Water poured out of the ends of the trumpets and created a soft spray as they hit the pool of water beneath them.

"So what do you think?" Damacles asked, sitting on the sculpture's ledge.

"It's beautiful." Alan murmured, following suit. "Exactly as all of the legends say and more." Though he spoke words of praise, Alan's green eyes were blank and his petite mouth formed a frown.

Damacles noticed this and addressed it. "You don't seem all that enthused." "It's a lot to take in at once."

"That doesn't seem to be all."

Alan bit his lip. He began to tremble, but he tried to keep himself under control. "This… this is paradise, but something is missing. The most important thing."

Damacles scooted closer. "And that is?"

"Eric." A tear fell from Alan's left eye.

The angel sighed. "I know you miss him. But he's not coming back."

"He didn't deserve what he got." Alan replied firmly. "Nobody deserves that. He should be up here with me."

Damacles didn't reply. He allowed Alan to go on.

"He was a good man, you know?" Alan turned to face the sharp faced angel. "He always helped me with my paperwork. He always comforted me through an attack. And he walked home with me every night to make sure I arrived safetly. That's not a man who deserves hell, no matter what else he did." Alan sighed deeply and looked up at the bright blue sky. "I'm glad I'm here, but…"

"But?" Damacles asked inquisitively.

Alan smiled sadly. "It isn't heaven if Eric's not here."

The two sat in silence for a time after that statement. "I understand." Damalces nodded. "Missing someone from life is often the case with new arrivals. However, the grief will fade away and become almost nonexistent with time."

Alan shook his head. "No. Not this grief."

Damacles didn't try to argue with Alan. He knew souls could turn violent and uncontrollable with the slightest disagreement in their reasoning. The best thing to do was to allow Alan to mourn his friend and find peace on his own.

The time of day never changed, but Alan could tell that they had been sitting in silence for a good time. He looked next to him to see if Damacles was still there, and sure enough, he was. He sat as still and as picturesque as one of the statues on the fountain.

"Why are you still here?" Alan asked. "Aren't you getting bored?"

"Hm?" Damacles turned to face him. "No, not really. I've given you the basic tour and brought you to this park, so I figured that you could decide what to do next, even if we sit here all day."

"Huh?"

"Well, this heaven is for you to experience. I was born and raised here, so I really don't feel right deciding what you should do." Damacles tilted his head up to face the sky. "If I say or do too much, I could subject you to my way of thinking. And that's not what heaven is about. It's about an individual paradise for everyone that comes through these golden gates."

Alan's expression softened. "That's… very thoughtful of you."

Damacles shrugged. "It's nothing."

Alan started to feel guilty for making this kind man sit here and do nothing. But he really didn't want to do anything; he felt numb and lifeless. "If it's not too much trouble…" Alan started timidly. "Can you take me back home?"

"Of course." Damacles replied, and stood up.

Alan still felt bad. He wanted the angel to be entertained in some way. "Can we go the long way? Or a scenic route?" He asked. "I don't want you to get bored. I mean you do a lot, and…" Alan began to feel stupid.

Damacles raised an eyebrow before smiling. "It's my turn to remark at your thoughtfulness. Yes, we can."

With that, Damacles led Alan through the park and showed him some beautiful mountain vistas that graced the sky, making the blue look like a painted canvas. The nature was abound and vibrant in color. A creek flowed gently to their left, adding further to the ambiance. Damacles seemed to enjoy this peace, which made Alan feel slightly better about his request.

Eventually they left the park and made their way back through the city to Alan's new home.

"Here you are." Damacles gestured to the white house. "If there's anything else you need, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you." Alan bowed politely and turned to go inside.

"Hey," Damacles spoke, causing Alan to pause.

"Yes?" He turned to face the angel.

"If you ever want to talk, I'm here. All you have to do is call out my name and I'll be there. You're a good person, Alan Humphries. A good person that's been through a lot. I want to help you."

I want to help you. The last time Alan had heard those words, it had been from the person who he trusted the most, the person who had ended up killing him. Tears welled up in Alan's eyes; he never though he would hear that sentence again. His heart was alight in pleasure yet plummeted into sadness at the same time.

"O-Okay." Alan nodded. "Thank you very much." With that, he ran into the house and to the bedroom. Alan made his way back under the covers and began to cry once again, but this time it was from the joy of finding someone else whom he could trust.


	7. Uncertainty

**A/N: Thank you for being patient with me! I'm not updating as often as I'd like, so I'm glad you guys are sticking around. (I blame life and lack of computer privileges). This chapter is a little short, but I had to upload something. Please enjoy!**

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><p>For the first few weeks, Alan found himself staying at home a lot. He didn't have the heart to venture outside into the perfect world, knowing that Eric was experiencing something more horrible than the most graphic nightmares. But eventually, Alan realized that his home was perfect too, and that no matter where he went he was surrounded by peace and joy. So he ventured outside and began to partake in the joys of eternal happiness.<p>

Day in and day out, Alan explored new places and tried new things. Sometimes he asked Damacles to come along and show him around some of the parks and natural landmarks, as well as tell him about them; Alan loved learning new things. He talked to a few other people on occasion, but he never allowed them to get much closer than a friendly hello.

"You're finally enjoying yourself." Damacles remarked one day. It was sunny as usual, and Alan had invited Damacles out for lunch. Though neither man needed to eat, food and drink were provided throughout the world for pleasure.

"Yes." Alan nodded, nursing a piping cup of tea. "I'm enjoying exploring a lot and trying to get familiar with everything."

"I wish you luck." Damacles chuckled. "Heaven is an infinite amount of space."

"I gathered." Alan smiled back.

"Are you making any friends?"

"No." Alan looked down. "I can't find anyone that I can relate to."

"Can't or don't want to?" Damacles inquired.

Alan looked up at the curious angel. They had spent a bit of time together, and Alan had learned a few things about Damacles, one of which was that he had an uncanny ability to see through people. Alan could never hide anything from him.

"It's a mix of both, I suppose." Alan replied after a moment of silence. "The vast majority of the souls here are human, and I was once a kind of god. There's very little common ground."

"You were human once though, right?" Damacles asked, taking a bite of deep fried fish. Another fact about Damacles was that he loved anything fried and greasy. It was quite lucky he was an angel, Alan had noted, otherwise he would have numerous health problems by now.

"Yes… but that was a very long time ago, and the shinigami realm feels like my first home." Alan sighed.

"Understandable." Damacles nodded thoughtfully and started to stare off into space.

"And…" Alan started slowly, causing Damacles to return his attention to the reaper. "And I can't let anyone else get close. I don't have the heart to do it." Alan sipped his tea sadly. "I know they won't ever go away, but it feels like if I obtain a friend, they'll double-cross me or abandon me.

"I wasn't treated very kindly in life." Alan continued. "My family always ignored me, and so did most people, save for the ones I helped. But they forgot about me eventually. Even when I got to the reaper realm, I felt very alone. But when I met Eric, that thirst for companionship was quenched. He cared for me and never left my side. However…" Alan's eyes glazed over as he flashed back to the date of judgment. "Eric was stolen from me." He took a long, shuddering breath.

"If you went through all of that, it's understandable that friendship is something that you are not comfortable with." Damacles replied. "But you've been talking to me, right?" He looked at Alan almost hopefully. "You seem to consider me a friend of sorts."

Alan's eyes widened. Yes, he considered Damacles a loose friend, but if he told him that, then he wouldn't have an excuse to avoid people. He really felt uncomfortable around the other residents, but if he admitted that he had let Damacles within the guarded walls of his heart, it would almost feel like an obligation to allow others to do the same.

The two sat in silence, finishing off their respective lunches. A slight awkwardness filled the air, the source being Damacles' unanswered question.

"Care for dessert?" Damacles asked after Alan had finished his lunch.

"Huh?" Alan was jolted back to reality; he had been thinking about the friendship inquisition.

"Dessert. Do you want any?"

"Oh, no thanks." Normally, Alan would have said yes. However, his thoughts were weighing heavily on his mind and seemed to repress any will to distract himself.

"Okay then." Damacles stood up and prepared to leave, as there was no bill to pay (money was useless in heaven). "Do you want to make plans for next time?"

Next time. Alan snapped into a thought process. There would always be a next time. Damacles was an immortal angel, a kind, considerate, undyng angel who would survive even the end of existence. He would never leave Alan's side, so long as Alan cared for their friendship. There was nothing to lose by allowing this man to be a companion.

Eric was also like that. While he was a shinigami, Eric could not be killed save for a death scythe. He would have been there for Alan for eternity. And even after their deaths, had they not been separated, Eric would still be with Alan, laughing and talking and sharing his company. But Eric had been separated- no, stolen from Alan. Stolen by his sins, by that demon, by that judge. Eric was ripped from Alan's life by third parties that had no business interfering with their friendship.

A flame started burning in Alan's chest, the kind that flares up when one has been wronged. Eric was the most precious thing to him, and no matter what he did, he did not deserve the fate that he had been given. Hell was not a place for a good soul like Eric Slingby's. And had it not been for those evil things, he would be here.

"Damacles." Alan spoke.

"What is it?"

Alan looked up at the angel, who was now staring at Alan with interest and kindness. Alan needed to retrieve what was taken from him; it was only right. But he couldn't do it alone. Powers outside of his understanding had taken Eric, and he needed a similar power to help get him back. And if Alan was a friend of someone bearing these powers, then he had to ask him for help.

"Yes, we are friends." Alan stared intensely at Damacles. "And as a friend, I want to ask you for a favor."

Damacles became unnerved by the look in Alan's eyes. "What would that be?" He asked cautiously.

"I want you to help me rescue Eric from hell."


	8. Mentor

"What?"

Damacles and Alan stared at each other, the former being too shocked at Alan's request to say anything more intelligent.

"I- I want you to help me get Eric back." Alan repeated, slightly less intense now that he'd seen the angel's response.

Damacles managed to sit back down. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled deeply. "Are you mad?" He asked. "You want me to go down to hell and fight off bloodthirsty demons all for the sake of one soul?"

It was Alan's turn to be shocked. "But… but you said that you grieve soundly every time a soul falls into sin. I thought you'd like a chance to save one."

Damacles took another deep breath, trying to wash off the shock factor. "I'm sorry, I didn't phrase that right. Of course I would love to save a soul that fell into hell. But if doing so were that simple, we'd never have to send them down there in the first place. Besides, some people really do deserve eternal punishment-"

"But not Eric!" Alan shouted. A few people turned to look at them. "Eric…" Alan lowered his voice. "Eric was- is- kind, strong, and brave. He made mistakes, many mistakes, but he's still the same person that I came to adore and trust." He looked down. "He… he's like an angel, to me. And although he has fallen, I still care about him all the same."

Those words resounded with Damacles. One of the major lessons he had learned when he was training to be a working angel was about the dangers of crossing into sin and becoming a fallen angel. He had learned about hell and how it was created by one such being. How Alan felt about Eric came vaguely close to how Damacles thought that his Father felt about Lucifer. Disappointment, but all the willing to forgive and accept him back into his arms.

"… I understand." Damacles said softly. He reached out and touched Alan's shoulder. "I understand how you feel."

Alan raised his head slightly to get a better look at Damacles. His curled bangs had fallen in front of his eyes, but by the way he had spoken and how his mouth formed a soft frown, Alan's words had clearly affected the angel's emotions in a deep way.

"Will you help me?" Alan asked humbly.

Damacles raised his head. "Yes." He said softly. "I'll help save your friend." His eyes were laced with a pitying essence, as well as an emotion that Alan could not describe.

"Really?" Alan smiled, grateful that his new friend had agreed to his plan. He ran around the table and hugged Damacles tightly. "Thank you so much!" Alan cried, tears starting to form from sheer happiness. Eric wouldn't have to suffer much longer. He was coming.

Damacles patted Alan on the back awkwardly. Physical interaction was something he didn't seem to be used to. "It's not going to be that simple."

"Huh?" Alan backed off slightly.

"Going to hell is not something us angels do lightly." Damacles frowned. "We only do it when there is a soul that was stolen or mistakenly put there, or if there is a particularly bothersome demon that we need to confront. This doesn't fall under either category."

Alan was about to retort in Eric's defense, but he held his tongue lest Damacles change his mind.

"There are many demons down there that defend the souls that they are given. They torture them heinously and will do anything to keep doing it, so getting someone from them will be extremely dangerous. Not to mention the regular demons who would love to slaughter an angel; we're walking targets down there."

"Okay." Alan nodded. "So we'll need to be careful."

"There's one more problem." Damacles' expression turned somewhat sheepish. "We'll need to have someone else take us down."

"Why?" Alan asked. "Can't you do it?"

"Well…" Damacles blushed from embarrassment. "I can't use the technique to get down there."

"What do you mean can't?"

"I mean the power of reverse placement; the power that we use to be anywhere at any time. I'm terrible at it."

Alan's heart dropped. Damacles couldn't take them? Then how would they get to hell? Damacles had barely agreed; how on earth would they convince someone else?

"How will we convince someone to take us?" Alan asked desperately. Another question entered his mind. "And how do you know about what happens in hell if you can't go there? Did another angel take you?"

"No." Damacles replied. "I only know what I've read about in school."

"So you're a rookie?"

"No!" Damacles turned redder. "I've been helping souls get settled here for 200 years! I've been working my heart out since before your great-grandparents were even thought of!"

"So you are a rookie." Alan replied flatly. As a shinigami, he knew that 100 years of service was just enough to be considered an experienced employee. And angels, who lived long before shinigami, were bound to have higher standards of experience.

"Not as far as I'm concerned." Damacles muttered, sinking into his seat. His pride was visibly damaged.

Alan sighed, but he knew that they had bigger issues than Damacles' lack of experience. "Never mind that. How do we convince someone to help us?"

"Normally, it would be near impossible. We avoid hell as much as we can." Damacles righted himself in his chair.

"Normally?"

"I know someone who has been to hell and back more times than I can count. He's taken the worst that filthy place has to offer; he doesn't think twice about going there."

A light of hope started to gleam in Alan's chest. "And you know this person well enough to ask him for help?"

Damacles nodded. "Yes. He was my mentor while I was being trained. He's retired, but he craves action since he used to be a warrior. With luck, he'll help us out."

"Great!" Alan jumped out of his seat. "Let's go right now!"

Damacles also rose from his chair. "Follow me."

He walked off down the street, Alan right on his heels. The former reaper was filled with hope. In a few short hours, Eric would be with him again, and the two of them could enjoy eternal paradise. He would introduce him to Damacles, and maybe Eric would become friends with the angel too. But most importantly, Eric wouldn't be in pain anymore. He would be away from the fiery pit of pain and torment that kept him separated from Alan.

_Wait for me, Eric_. Alan smiled. _I'll be there for you soon_. 

Damacles and Alan stood in front of a large white cottage. Damacles had led them through the city and well into the countryside. There was one home every few miles, with the remainder of the space filled with tall grass and large trees whose leaves swayed in the gentle breeze. An occasional rustle in the bushes signified an animal's presence, and songbirds could be heard frequently. The area smelled clean and fresh, as though nobody had touched so much as a stalk of grass in years.

"It's peaceful." Alan remarked. Now that they were about to face the man who could help them, he was getting a little nervous.

"It is. I suppose he tired of all the screams and bloodshed."

"And you're sure he can help?"

"Do you want to save your friend?"

"Of course!" Alan chirped.

"Then he can help." Damacles knocked on the door three times.

Alan waited anxiously for the door to be answered. He wondered what this man was like. As a warrior angel, he had to be strong. Combined with the horrors he'd seen, he was probably somewhat firm and reserved as well. But because he was an angel, he was bound to be kind. A distant but nice man? Maybe.

The top half of the double hinged door creaked open, removing Alan from his speculations. He straightened up, preparing to show his respects. But there was nobody there.

Damacles frowned slightly. "Sir? Are you there?"

More silence.

"Why did the door open if he's not here?" Alan asked nervously.

"I'm not sure, but there's always a sure way to check if he's home."

"Oh?" Alan blinked.

"Watch." Damacles cleared his throat. "Master, may I be graced with your presence?"

Something instantly popped up from behind the lower part of the door, startling Alan and causing him to squeak. Alan shivered and looked to see what had startled him. It turned out to be a large oval-shaped dome of slightly damaged white feathers.

Alan didn't know how to react to this. "Um… hello?" He said timidly. Was this Damacles' mentor?

"What an honor to see you, master." Damacles got on one knee. However, no sooner had he done so, a scabbard shot out from a hole in the wings and hit Damacles over the head.

"How many times have I told you not to do that, boy?" A low growl emanated from the dome. "I will not be addressed in that manner." The voice was intimidating and rough; it scared Alan to no end.

"I'm sorry, sir." Damacles got to his feet, not bothering to rub his head. He was obviously used to this. "But we need your help."

"We?" The voice growled again. "Why are you always crawling to me whenever you have problems with one of the new arrivals?"

Alan felt the little ray of hope grow dim. The relationship between Damacles and this man appeared to be unstable. Maybe the mentor wouldn't be willing to help after all.

"I'm not here about admissions." Damacles stated. "I'm here about a trip to hell."

"Hell?" The voice sounded startled.

"Yes." He gestured to Alan. "This is a former shinigami named Alan Humphries. His friend Eric was sentenced to hell, and he wants to rescue him."

"A rescue mission, hm?" The mentor's tone changed to one of consideration.

"Y-Yes sir." Alan said. "I want to save him, and Damacles can't bring us down to where he is. That's why we need your help."

"Rescue?" The voice repeated.

"Um, yes." Alan replied.

"Rescue."

"Yes, that's what I've said."

"A rescue!" The gruff tone vanished, changing to one of boyish delight. The dome spread out into two wings tarnished with the scars of battle; Alan stumbled back at the sudden movement. He dusted himself off and found that he was face-to-face with the mentor that Damacles seemed to revere.

He looked young, quite young, with short shaggy white hair that covered his left eye. The remaining eye was big and bright, and he had a huge smile on his face. He had a large scar on his neck, most likely from a dangerous mission. Overall, his essence and features conveyed his boyish enthusiasm.

"A rescue!" He cheered again, clapping his hands and spinning around. "Damacles, why didn't you say this in the first place? Come in, come in!" He opened the lower half on the door and scampered off into the house.


	9. Hell

**AN: Thank you for being patient! I'm really sorry for the delay (again); I've been really uninspired and busy. But I'll update whenever I can! On a more positive note, the next chapter makes 10 chapters! I'm so excited! That being said, please enjoy! ^-^**

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><p>Alan sat in the sloppily decorated living room inside of the mentor's house. The walls and carpet were perfectly clean and spotless, but it was the crooked paintings, the knickknacks strewn about on the coffee table and some old clothes and papers on the floor that made the home look unkempt. The color scheme was rather dim, with mostly brown and white colors. There were tall piles of junk that looked like a feral creature might pop out. Alan made sure to keep as close to the center of the cream colored sofa as he could.<p>

He watched Damacles explain the situation to his mentor, who had been introduced as Micah. The home matched the personality of the man to a T. Micah appeared to be inattentive, looking around the room and playing with his fingers as Damacles talked. He examined pieces of his hair and picked at some of the split ends. Sometimes he would smile to himself or give a small laugh when he thought of something amusing. Overall, Alan's impression of the angel was… strange. Very, very strange. He wasn't sure if the man was right enough in the head for this mission.

"So that's where we stand, and that's why we came to you." Damacles finished.

"Mhm… alrighty!" Micah sprang up, dusting off his loose white pants. Alan jumped a little. "So we're rescuing a soul that was fairly judged and determined to be unfit for heaven. Sounds alright to me!"

"You'll do it?" Alan piped up hopefully.

"Hm…" Micah assumed a thinking pose before darting over to Alan and plopping down next to him.

"U-um, Mr. Micah?" Alan stuttered.

"What's the magic word?" Micah smiled childishly at him.

"Huh?"

"The magic word." Micah repeated. "You know, the one you say when you want something!" He bounced a little.

Alan stared blankly at him. "Um… Please?"

"Okay! I'll do it!" Micah jumped back up and scampered to a chair. "So when do you want to go, Damacles?" He looked at his apprentice.

"Any time is fine, but Alan wants to get his friend back as soon as possible."

"Then we'll go now!" Micah stood up. "Please put your hand on my shoulder." Damacles did as instructed. Alan got up and was about to touch Micah's other shoulder, but Micah put his hand out to block him. "I'm sorry, but I can't take you."

"What?" Alan's heart plummeted. "Why not? It's my friend we're talking about!"

"And it's too dangerous." Micah's demeanor changed to the serious one from before. "You are a resident of heaven, one of our precious souls that we cannot afford to lose. If you go down to hell with us, not only would we be breaking one of our vital rules, you would be in extreme danger. A demon could devour you in an instant."

"I don't care. I want to save him myself. And besides, I'm the only one who knows what he looks like." Alan glared at Micah.

Micah thought for a moment before nodding his head. "That is true."

"But sir!" Damacles looked at Micah in disbelief. "Even though I support Alan's desire, after what you said-"

"And that's why we'll protect him!" The childish angel scampered to an old heart-shaped box, digging around for a minute before he rushed back to Alan and tossed something around his neck. Alan held the mysterious object up to his face. It was a simple silver cross.

"To ward off the demons." Micah said. "They'll have a hard time touching you while you're wearing that. Also, you are to stay by Damacles and myself at all times. Under NO circumstances-" Micah leaned a half inch from Alan's face."- are you to remove this cross or leave either one of us. Understood?"

Alan nodded quickly, uncomfortable with Micah being so close.

"Good! Now you may place your hand on my shoulder."

Alan hesitantly touched the angel. He looked over at Damacles, who was shaking his head and giving Alan and Micah concerned looks. He clearly wasn't comfortable with this.

"Well then!" Micah clapped. "Down we go!"

The ground vanished from under Alan's feet. The three of them hovered in midair for a moment before they abruptly began to plummet. The force of the fall caused Alan to feel like he was dropping out of his own skin. Darkness rushed past his eyes. Air whooshing past him filled his ears with deafening sounds. Alan tried to scream, but his voice would not come. From what little he could see, he could tell that Damacles was equally frightened, desperately clinging to Micah's shoulder. The aforementioned man bore no emotion with a daze hanging over his eyes. If he hadn't already been dead, Alan would have been sure that this was how he was going to die.

The fall stopped as abruptly as it started. Alan's legs crashed into the ground, causing him great pain. He dropped to his knees to try and nurse the injury, only to find that the ground was searing the flesh on his legs. Alan yelped and jumped upright.

"Probably not the brightest of ideas." Micah stated.

"I gathered." Alan rubbed his sore legs.

"Sir…" Damacles' voice was hoarse and shaky. "I-Is this… this…"

"Yep. Take a good look." Micah gestured around him. "This is hell."

Upon hearing this, Alan looked up and started to analyze the area he was in. A split second later, he wished he hadn't.

"Horrid", "ghastly", and "revolting" were not strong enough words to describe what he was seeing. In fact, no word in any language could accurately portray the horror of the wretched heat, the cracked, stony volcanoes seeping fire and lava that spread for miles, and the ink black sky. Of course that was merely the start; the air stank of rotting flesh, corpses were strewn about like litter, and the screams of the damned echoed all around, begging for forgiveness and mercy.

Alan's first reaction was to promptly empty the contents of his stomach all over the ground. The bile seeped into the rocky surface and burned into nothing once it touched the veins of lava beneath.

"That's a typical reaction." Micah rubbed Alan's back. "This place is impossible to stomach."

"N-Not s-surprised." Alan stammered, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"Some people pass out or become petrified. Others go completely insane. Ooh, it looks like Damacles is about to demonstrate fainting!"

Damacles did look quite pale, Alan noted. Sweat poured down his face, his eyes were glazed over with pure terror. He was trembling and digging his teeth into his lower lip.

"Hey." Micah shook his apprentice, getting his attention immediately. "Don't focus on anything. That'll only make it worse."

"Ah… yes…" Damacles swallowed hard and nodded. He still looked pale.

"Should we get down to business, then?" Alan was becoming anxious. Amongst all of these cries and this anguish, Eric was here. Somewhere, in some corner of this godless place, Eric was suffering. Alan couldn't have imagined that hell would be this terrible. Now that he'd seen it firsthand, he became even more determined to rescue his friend.

"Alright!" Damacles nodded. Somehow he was cheery again. "There's not much we can do except search in the areas where souls are typically kept. And even then, he might not be there." Micah spun around.

"It's a start." Alan said determinedly. "Lead us there."

Damacles nodded. "Let's get out of here as soon as possible."

"Okay!" Micah pranced off. "Follow me!"

As Alan scampered after the insane man, he wondered if Micah really could help him find Eric. But he had brought them here and told them what to expect, so it was clear that he knew something. Alan decided to trust him.


	10. Searching

**AN: Blah. I hate writer's block. But I've finally updated!** **Thanks to ColorPixie for being an awesome person and reminding me that I still have a story that some people read! (Hopefully?) That being said, please enjoy the 10th chapter of After the End!**

* * *

><p>Going to hell to stage this rescue mission was not as simple as Alan had foolishly thought. They had not been walking for long, but the physical and mental toil was overwhelming him. The constant wailing was pounding in his head, and it felt like the heat was melting his flesh off. Alan found himself panting. He shook his head to try and regain his focus, but even the slight breeze he generated was hotter than the most scorching desert.<p>

Alan felt a pat on his back. Damacles was giving him a concerned look.

"Are you faring well?" He asked.

"I-I'm dealing with it." Alan replied honestly.

Damacles hoisted Alan's arm around his shoulders and supported his back. "You look weak. Allow me to help."

"I'm not weak." Alan's stubbornness set in; he pulled his arm away from Damacles. "I'll deal with it."

"Alright." Damacles sighed. "But if you do need help, don't hesitate to ask."

Alan turned away and resumed his search. After being crippled by the thorns for so long, he wanted to do everything by himself; he had always been independent. But this search was draining him, and he felt like he might not last much longer. Alan finally understood why Micah had not wanted to bring him along.

Micah wistfully skipped a few feet ahead of them, checking all of the nooks and crannies for Eric so the two less experienced people wouldn't have to look as hard. Despite that, Alan still heavily analyzed everything he came across. There could have been something Micah had missed, but so far, nothing warranted optimism. All he saw were a few dismantled bodies and a scarce few begging for mercy or hiding in the crevices behind crumbling walls or jagged volcanic rocks. The ones that lived, however, didn't seem to notice the trio. They were so far engulfed in despair and insanity that even the small light of hope had vanished from their souls.

"Nothing here." Micah stated after a time. "Let's try the next settlement."

Neither Alan nor Damacles said anything. What they had seen was scarring both of their minds, and they had little will to speak. The two friends merely nodded and followed Micah to the next location.

Once they arrived, Alan could feel that this place was different from the last. There were more living people here; he could hear the fight and faint traces of hope in their voices. A few crudely made huts littered the area, obviously hiding places from demons. The demons themselves were nowhere to be seen at the moment.

"Be careful." Micah warned. "This place is more populous, which means that there is a greater chance of a demon attack."

"Understood." Damacles gained a speck of strength to speak. Alan was too distracted to formulate a response. If there were more people here, then there was a greater chance that one of them had seen Eric. Remembering Micah's orders, Alan grabbed Damacles and started to drag him toward the nearest hut.

"Hey!" Damacles dug his heels into the ground. "Why are you dragging me?"

"I'm going to talk to the people in the huts." Alan stated. "And according to Micah's orders, I need to have you with me."

"How do you that there aren't demons in there?" Damacles continued to resist. "You shouldn't be so rash."

"How else are we going to find Eric if we don't search everywhere?" Alan glared at him. "He might be in there for all we know!"

"I don't think it's a good idea." Damacles said firmly.

Alan gave an exasperated sigh. "Please." He begged.

Damacles' answer did not change.

Fine, Alan decided. If Damacles would not come willingly, he would have to be forced. Without another thought, Alan sped off toward the hut as fast as his legs would carry him. Hearing Damacles' frenzied shouts and footsteps confirmed that Alan's theory had worked.

He approached the door to the closest hut. No demonic aura could be sensed, telling Alan that this would be a moderately safe place. He flung the door open.

Screams were the first thing that met Alan's ears. Alan looked for the source, and found three people huddled together, caked with blood and dirt, their eyes wide with fear.

"He's not a demon…" one murmured.

"Shut the door! Get in!" another hissed. Not wanting to irritate this person, a man by the sound of it, Alan closed the door behind him and took a look at whom he had walked in on.

There were two men and one woman. One man appeared to be in his 30s, with greasy strands of thin, brown hair. His narrow features and beady eyes contrasted heavily with the older gentleman next to him, who had a wide set jaw and a chiseled face. Tufts of his gray hair stood upright, like he had a bad bedhead. His muscular arm was wrapped tightly around the woman, who had soft cheekbones and bushy blonde hair. She was probably a few years younger than the first man, but the terror, pain and despair carved onto her face aged her heavily.

"Who are you?" The first man asked hesitantly.

"Alan Humphries." Alan politely bowed.

"New here, huh?" The older man removed his arm from the woman and got to his feet. "Don't look like them devils got a bite out of you yet."

"No sir."

"What did you do that got you here?" The woman wrapped a rotten shawl tightly around her body. "If you ended up here, then you've had to have done something terrible." The way she dragged out the last word made Alan feel queasy.

"Um…"

"ALAN!"

The door burst open, causing the humans to screech and cower again. Damacles had stormed into the hut, grabbing Alan by the collar.

"What were you THINKING, you fool? There could have been a demon in here! Are all shinigami this rash?" Damacles shouted. Alan had never seen him this mad.

"You weren't going to help investigate, so I had to give you a little push." Alan replied coolly.

"Didn't you listen to a word Micah told you? You have to stay with us or you'll be eaten alive!"

"He also said we had to actually LOOK for Eric! He could have been in here!

"Well is he?"

Alan's pause was interrupted by gasping from the scrawny man. Both reaper and angel turned to look at him. He was crawling toward Damacles on his hands and knees, expression filled with hope.

"Angel…" The man reached out. "Are you an angel?"

Damacles' angry face softened into his usual expression. "Yes. I am." It appeared that his angry feelings dissipated when he was dealing with the dead.

"Oh-!" The man grasped the hem of Damacles' robes tightly in his fists. "Please, O blessed servant of God! Take us out of here! PLEASE!"

"H-have you come to free us?" The woman rushed over to Damacles.

The third man approached as well, looking like he was about to faint from happiness. Damacles was quickly becoming uncomfortable. The hands of these damned souls were grabbing at his clothes and screaming their prayers at him. They had received their judgment fairly; they deserved this. But their pleading made it hard to remember this…

"Oh, there you two are!"

Micah had popped his head through the door, wearing a bright smile.

"I was worried that you two had gotten lost or something!" Micah gave Alan a pat on the back. "Don't run off like that again, okay?"

Alan nodded. "I'm sorry…"

Micah grinned and turned to Damacles. "Ooh, you made some new friends! Hi there!"

The three people gawked at the sight of another angel. Damacles looked away. "They're… they just started grabbing me…"

"Yes, the souls down here do tend to do that." Micah firmly but gently pulled the man and woman off of Damacles' robes. "You have to learn to let them go. They're trying to use you to escape their punishment."

Damacles nodded in understanding.

"So, Alan!" Micah grinned again. "Is Eric one of these two?" He pointed at the two men.

"… No." Alan replied, feeling a slight bit of pity for these people.

"Okay! Let's try somewhere else!" Micah turned to leave.

"WAIT!" The woman screeched, grabbing the hem of Micah's pants. "You're going to leave us here to die?"

Micah faked a thoughtful expression. "Kind of, yes."

"But why-"

"I believe you already know why. You are being punished for your sins. People like you do not seek forgiveness, but escape from the fate you brought upon yourself."

The woman turned bright red with fury. "I HOPE YOU ROT IN THIS HELLHOLE!" She screeched.

"We're already here, so we're rotting anyway! Which we need to get back to. Bye~!" Micah grabbed Alan and Damacles before running out of the door.

The incident at the hut had left a dead weight in Alan's heart. Seeing those people begging for mercy reminded him terribly of his encounter with the thorns. He empathized with them. But like him, there was nothing that could be done for them. They could not be saved.

Micah cheerfully inspected the rest of the huts; he didn't want to put Alan or Damacles through any more of the souls' anguish. However, although Alan could not see them, he could still hear their desperate cries for a savior. When he asked Damacles about it, he dully replied that they had already forsaken their savior a long time ago.

But it was obvious that their voices affected him.

Alan decided to put the people in the huts out of his mind as best he could; they were clouding his ability to search for Eric. He frisked through piles of scrap and rubble, slid into small holes and crevices, but still Eric eluded him. It didn't matter. Alan would comb through every speck of dust in hell in his search.

Hours went by, maybe days; telling time was impossible and every second felt like a millennium. The trio would stop for a break occasionally to refresh their minds as best they could. However, Alan's was being pushed to his limit. Working weeks of overtime or reaping massive amounts of souls end on end felt miniscule compared to the strain he was feeling now. His heart burned with drive and determination, but his psyche was wearing thin. After so much disappointment with no leads, the former reaper was at his limit…

"Maybe he's been eaten already."

Alan whirled around, ignoring the ditch he had been peering in. "What did you say?" He hissed dangerously.

Damacles shrugged. "I said maybe he's been eaten already. Devoured. Consumed."

Alan's dead green eyes narrowed tightly as he trudged toward his friend. "Don't you DARE say that." He hissed.

"Look, we're not getting any results." Damacles tried to explain. He looked beyond exhaustion. "Hell is an infinite abyss. We can't possibly search it all. And even if we could, there's a chance that your friend is already dead."

"He's not dead." Alan said. "He isn't. I won't say or think that until I see it with my own eyes."

"Wouldn't it be easier to accept that he's gone rather than see him as one of those?" Damacles pointed to a heavily mutilated and decomposing corpse about 30 feet away. Its ribs were jutting out at odd angles; its skull was covered in maggots, the mouth open as a memento of its last scream.

Alan swallowed hard. "I… don't care."

"Don't give me that! Judging by how you talk about him, you love him more than anything that exists in the worlds! If it were me, I would acknowledge their death rather than subject myself to the sight of the one I love hideously disfigured as the victim of a brutal murder!"

"Stop shouting. It's hurting my ears."

Micah trotted over, a small pout on his face. "Fighting isn't going to get us anywhere. And it's not very nice, either."

Alan took Micah's appearance in. He looked completely unfazed by everything; not a hair on his unkempt head was out of place- well, more out of place than it had been.

"It was your suggestion to bring me here to help you two, wasn't it?" Micah leaned close to Damacles. "I know it's hard, and I certainly didn't want you to spend this much time here on your first trip. But since you chose to take part in this search, you have to do your duties, no matter how hard they become."

Damacles sharply turned his head away, his curls sticking to the sweat on his face. He nodded slowly, acknowledging that Micah had made his point.

"Now, we're about to enter a new area. This one is completely flat with no obstacles, which will make searching a lot easier. However, because of its high exposure, it is extremely likely that a demon will attack. In fact, this place is where they like to eat their prey. So I want both of you to stay close to me, alright?"

"Yes sir." Alan replied. Damacles simply nodded his head again.

"Okay!" Micah grinned broadly. "Follow me!"

Alan gave Damacles a look of concern. The younger angel reciprocated by giving Alan a pained and resigned expression. He was at his limit.

"… I'm sorry." Damacles said, following Micah closely.

"You don't need to be." Alan replied, walking right next to him. "I'm exhausted too."

"I was uncompassionate." Micah continued. "I know how much he means to you. It was unfair of me to say those things, even if they were a possible truth.

"I'm at my limit." Damacles huffed. "I'm hot, exhausted, and in pain. I know you are too, so that doesn't make it an excuse. In fact, you're pushing forward despite your condition."

Alan blinked in surprise.

"… I'm going to keep on trying. For you, and for Eric. Your determination is… inspiring to say the least. I won't admit defeat until we see him dead for ourselves."

"Damacles…" If Alan could, he would have teared up.

"I never thought an angel could learn from a mortal." Damacles chuckled. "But it seems you were right. I'm still a rookie."

Alan hesitated a moment before pulling Damacles into a side hug. "When we get back, I'll take you and Eric to that restaurant you love so much. Eric can see how good the food is, and you can eat as many deep fat fried foods as your stomach and arteries can stand."

Damacles smiled, returning the gesture. "I'll hold you to that."


	11. Discovery

The wide expanse of empty land was intimidating, to say the least. Cracks littered the hard brown earth. What looked like small bumps at the edge of the horizon were actually gigantic volcanoes. The only thing that Alan could compare this to was Limbo, save for that fact that this was far worse.

A stray corpse was found now and then, mostly rotten and decomposed beyond recognition. Alan shuddered when he imagined Eric in such a state, but he forced those thoughts out of his mind. If he allowed such thoughts to occur, he may as well give up. And that was the one thing that the small shinigami refused to do.

Micah seemed to have made a game out of avoiding the cracks. He skipped oddly as he went in zigzags. Alan wondered why the retired angel was so happy and cheerful in this desolate place. Perhaps he was insane, but Alan didn't think that was the case. He was too reasonable to be crazy. Excitement, maybe? That could be it.

"That one looks intact."

Damacles' statement brought Alan's attention back to the landscape. The brown haired reaper followed Damacles' gaze, and saw what he had remarked about. A seemingly whole body was laying about 20 feet from them.

Alan inched forward and squinted. He couldn't make out much, but he could tell that the figure was tall, male, and was wearing a suit. Alan's heart rate quickened. Could this be Eric?

"I want to check it out." Alan informed Micah, who had also grown curious.

"Go ahead!" Micah grinned.

Alan speed walked to the figure, keeping close to the two angels. Alan was optimistic; thinking he had finally, _finally_ found Eric. The two of them could be together again.

That was, until he stood right over body.

The body had been maimed. Its torso had been ripped open, ribs sticking straight up like spikes. What was left of its entrails were strewn messily about and pouring out of the gaping hole in the body. Gaping slashes coated the arms and legs, and teeth marks were visible on the exposed bone.

Alan shook with horror. There was no way this person could be Eric; he was dead. But despite the wounds, the physical features were clear as day. This dead man had blonde hair. He was tall with a build akin to Eric's. His suit was fine and expensive. The skin of the face had been clawed off, but Alan could make out the strong, chiseled features. Traces of facial hair remained on the chin.

There was little mistaking it. This man was Eric.

"No… NO!" Alan fell to his knees and wailed. "ERIC, NO! WHY?" Tears poured from his eyes onto the man's face, which was contorted into an expression of pure agony. He had been in so much pain… so much…

A hand found its way onto Alan's shoulder, not like the reaper cared. Damacles started to rub his back softly, trying to comfort Alan as he grieved.

"Is it him?" He asked softly.

Alan nodded.

"I'm sorry…" the young angel whispered. Damacles had heard a lot about Eric from Alan, and in truth, had wanted to meet the man himself. From what Alan had told him, Damacles had pictured Eric to be a scruffy, nice guy. Perhaps a bit lazy and temperamental, but a good person. Now that Alan had confirmed the corpse's identity, he would never get to meet the man he had heard so much about, the man that someone would forsake heaven for.

"That's a shame." Micah sighed. "But it happens. I guess we weren't quick enough. I was a bit interested in him though, since you were willing to come here of all places to get him."

Alan kept sobbing. He didn't care to process Micah's words. He only felt the sharp knife of despair embedded deeply in his chest.

"What do you want to do now?" Micah turned to get in Alan's line of vision.

"I… don't know…" Alan eventually choked.

"You could do a few things. You could keep grieving over him, you could turn away and go back to heaven, or you could bury him." Micah shrugged. "It's really up to you. I won't stand in your way. Unless you want to stay here forever with him, in which case I will drag you back to heaven."

Alan clutched himself tightly, trying to organize his thoughts. "I suppose… the proper thing would be… to bury him…"

Micah nodded. "I'll go dig a hole." He trotted off to find a suitable place for digging.

Damacles continued to rub Alan's back. He made no sound, allowing Alan to grieve for his dear friend. Alan kept his body in a vice-like grip, trying to control his hysterical sobs. He took deep wheezy breaths as he looked over the body one more time. _What could have done this to him?_ Alan thought, clenching his teeth. _Is it even him?_ His doubts didn't seem warranted; what was left of the body looked very much like Eric, from the face to the body to the suit, even to the buttons on the waistcoat that were gleaming with blood…

Wait.

Eric didn't wear a waistcoat. He didn't even own one. He had hated how they felt, even going so far as to describe them as 'a slightly loose corset'. With this new theory in mind, Alan took a thorough look at the man in front of him.

The nose was a different shape. He had no piercings whatsoever. The hair was a soft, natural blonde, instead of heavily bleached. The more Alan looked, the more differences he noticed. He could have kicked himself for being so stupid.

"This… isn't him…" Alan dashed away his tears.

"Huh?" Damacles removed his hand. "It isn't?" He peered at the body.

"No…" Alan laughed softly. "It looked like him, but it's different. I was an idiot not to notice…"

Damacles couldn't help but smile. "That's a good thing, isn't it?"

"The hole is ready!" Micah announced. He saw Alan's expression. "Huh? You look happy."

"I'm more relieved than anything." Alan smiled. "It's not him."

"Really? That's wonderful!" Micah performed a small celebratory dance. "Now we can continue the search!"

Damacles rubbed his head at the sight of his mentor's enthusiastic bouncing. Alan chuckled a bit before turning to the body. While this man wasn't Eric, what happened to him was still horrible. No doubt he had committed a great sin to get here, but the thought of leaving him exposed to decay didn't sit well with Alan.

"We should still bury him."

Damacles looked shocked for a moment when he heard what Alan said. "I suppose it's only right…" He eventually concluded.

Micah didn't seem to care. "Yay! Now my hole won't go to waste!" He scooped the body into his arms and smiled at Alan. "You're a good man, Alan Humphries."

Alan shook his head. "I wouldn't say that."

"Oh, stop selling yourself short." Micah said as he buried the body. "A good person doesn't leave a stray corpse to rot. Instead, he has him buried. You are a good person, even if you don't think so."

"Alright, if you insist." Alan chuckled softly.

Micah finished the burial. "Now then!" He pointed dramatically into the distance. "Let's keep looking!" Micah charged off, forcing Alan and Damacles to run in order to keep up with him.

Corpses grew fewer and farther between the longer they explored. The scenery also grew less gruesome. What would have been a flesh and blood body 20 minutes ago was now a pile of old bits of bones. The air stank less of blood and more like dirt. This was a mixed blessing: while the atmosphere had grown less putrid, there was little to investigate, which meant no clues as to Eric's location.

After passing yet another cracked skull, Alan grew skeptical of the area they were examining. This seemed to be the place where old scraps of bodies were dumped; the leftovers if you will. No corpse here was intact or whole. Eric wouldn't have had enough time to be decomposed to this state. He was about to suggest going to a different area, when something caught his eye.

A body. A full, intact body, about 50 feet away.

Alan alerted the angels to his discovery, and they followed Alan toward the figure. After the last body, the former shingami was reluctant to get his hopes up, but he couldn't help but grow excited when he saw the suit the figure wore. After a few more feet, he saw that it was male. A little ways further, Alan could see the blonde hair that the man had. The bleached blonde hair.

Alan quickened his pace, and soon he was standing over the body. It was face down in the dirt with his back slashed horribly. However, no bone was exposed, which increased the likelihood of the man being alive. But what stood out to Alan more than the injury, more than the fact that the man had the correct height and build, was a little unique feature on the right side of his head.

Dark brown cornrows.

Alan kneeled over. A pulsing lump of tension was felt in his throat. Alan's thin arms moved in slow motion as he picked the body up and turned it over to see the man's face.

"Eric."


	12. Reunion

It was him. There was no mistaking it. Eric Slingby lay unconscious in the trembling arms of Alan Humphries. He was in terrible shape; his entire body was riddled with injuries and he was coated in a thick layer of blood and dirt. Alan shakily lifted his partner and hugged him, resting Eric's head in the crook of his neck. The tall man's soft breath and stubbly chin tickled Alan's skin, confirming that he was alive.

"You're sure it's him this time?" Micah smiled, already knowing the answer to the question he had asked. Alan nodded quickly. Tears poured from his tired green eyes, but this time they were from pure elation. Eric was really here. He had found him at last.

Damacles also grinned. He was happy that their long search had been positively rewarded. All they had to do now was wake Eric up and return to heaven. They could finally leave.

"Eric…" Alan whispered tenderly, stroking a few stray hairs out of Eric's face. The blonde man's cheek was slightly swollen and he had a gash on his forehead that was still bleeding. Alan wasted no time in tearing off one of his sleeves and making a makeshift bandage to tie around Eric's head. He's so hurt… Alan took in the rest of Eric's brutalized body, gently stroking his warm cheek. It could be worse, but to think that he was in that much pain…

Micah's finger started brushing against Alan's repeatedly. Alan was confused as to why this was happening, but when he took a look, he realized that the hyperactive angel had started poking Eric's cheek.

"Don't do that!" Alan squawked, pulling Eric away from Micah. Micah simply went to Eric's other cheek and resumed his poking. "Why are you even doing that?"

"We need to wake him up somehow!" Micah was clearly amused. "We've got to make sure he's competent and understands what's going on!"

A memory of Grell poking and pinching William's cheeks when the redhead had wanted attention somehow wormed its way into Alan's mind.

"You remind me of someone I knew…" Alan sighed.

The features on Eric's face twitched into a subtle frown. Noticing this instantly, Alan swatted the childish angel away and brought his face closer to Eric's. Softly but firmly, Alan called his name.

"Eric?"

Another twitch.

"Eric, can you hear me?"

Alan's heart nearly exploded when Eric's eyelids slowly lifted and the gaze of his hazy green eyes came to rest on Alan's face.

"Eric! You're awake!" Alan cried happily.

"Nn… who…?"

Eric's voice was hoarse and cracked, like he had not spoken for a long time. It lacked all of his original strength and cockiness.

Alan forced his ecstasy down so as not to frighten his beloved friend. "Eric, it's me, Alan."

Eric's reaction was dull, to say the least. "A… lan…?" He croaked, unfazed by the presence of the small man.

Alan was shocked. "Yes Eric, it's me… what's wrong?"

Unbeknownst to Alan, Eric had frequently hallucinated his little friend coming to be with him. Alan's soothing touch haunted his dreams, his soft voice echoing in the darkness that surrounded him. But whenever the strong former reaper had tried to touch or talk back, all traces of Alan vanished, and he was thrust back into the brutal reality he was living in.

"A…lan…" Eric whispered again, sounding a tad desperate. Even if Alan was just an illusion, even if the slender hand running down his cheek wasn't real, Eric would always respond to Alan's words. The mere thought of Alan's presence was enough to get him through the endless torment.

"Eric, I'm here." Alan lifted Eric's face a bit closer to his own. "It's really me. I'm here for you now."

Eric suddenly realized that unlike his delusions, Alan's touch had some force behind it. "You… re… al…?" He moaned.

"Yep, he's real." Micah popped into Eric's line of view, confusing Eric further.

"I'm very much real." Alan nodded.

It all clicked at once. Alan's voice was clear and pure, audible not only in Eric's head but in the environment around him. The gentle touches were warm, and he could see the brown strands of Alan's hair twitching ever so slightly with every movement Eric's precious friend made. There was no doubt about Alan's existence any longer.

Eric came to life instantly and clamped his arms around Alan in a tight hug. He cried Alan's name out joyfully.

"Alan! ALAN!"

The sudden gesture knocked the wind out of Alan's lungs for a moment. Struggling to breathe again, Alan wrapped his arms gently around Eric and laughed.

"Eric, I can't breathe!" Alan smiled.

"Deal with it!" Eric countered, squeezing Alan closer. "Shinigami don't need to breathe!"

"T-that's true." Alan laughed a little. He no longer cared about his squished body.

"It's really you." Eric breathed, moving one of his hands to Alan's head. Alan's hair was so soft, Eric realized, much softer than he remembered. Alan's thin body against his felt like the most natural thing in the world. He inhaled deeply, allowing Alan's gentle scent to fill his nostrils. Everything about Alan, Eric absorbed in his embrace. He cast aside everything else around him to experience Alan completely.

Damacles decided that this would be a good time to interrupt. "This is sweet and all, but I think it's time to get down to business."

"Huh?" Eric looked up, frowning.

"You didn't think we came down here for the ambiance, did you?" Damacles crossed his arms.

"Why did you interrupt them, Damacles?" Micah whined. "They were so cute…"

"Right!" Alan wormed his way out of Eric's arms. "We came to bring you to heaven!"

Eric froze in disbelief. He couldn't have heard what he thought he did. "… What?"

"That's right!" Micah chimed. "These two came and asked me to bring them here to rescue you!" He ruffled Alan and Damacles' hair. "Of course it's up to you whether you want to come or not, but we did go through an awful lot of trouble to find you."

Surprise kept a firm grip on Eric's features. "You… want to take me." He pointed at himself. "Me, a sinner. To heaven."

"Yep!"

Eric scoffed and looked away. "That sounds nice, but impossible. Do you know what I've done? I killed 1,000 people! That sort of sin damns a person!"

"But you can come back from that!" Alan piped up, staring pleadingly at Eric. "Damacles said that you could go!"

"And what does he know?" Eric looked at the two angels. "I don't know who is who, but one of these guys looks like something a cat threw up, and the other looks greener than you were when you first joined the dispatch!"

Both angels twitched in shock, but only Damacles looked offended enough to actually punch Eric.

"What are you saying?" Alan was equally astounded. "You don't believe me?"

"Of course I-" Eric paused. He trusted Alan more than anything. But this offer… it seemed too good to be true. Residing in hell for who knows how long didn't do wonders for one's faith in others, and Eric had almost forgotten the feeling of trust that he felt with Alan.

"I do." Eric let out a long breath. "It's just that the judge of the afterlife itself didn't deem me fit for heaven, and made pretty darn sure that I wouldn't be able to go there."

Alan shook his head. "These two are actually from heaven. And if they say you're welcome there, then you're welcome." He put his hands on his slender hips. "And since when have you cared what other people said?"

Eric laughed. "Point taken."

"So you'll come? It really isn't heaven without you." Alan was sure that he had Eric convinced, but to really have the tall blonde hooked, he made a sweet, pleading expression that Eric could never resist.

"Yeah, alright." Eric looked like he was about to explode from Alan's cuteness. "I'll go."

"Thank you!" Alan squeezed Eric while Micah cheered. Damacles still looked a bit sore about Eric's previous comment, but he was pleased nonetheless.

"Well then, it's nice to meet you!" Micah nudged Alan aside a bit to shake Eric's hand. "I'm Micah!"

"Eric Slingby." Eric returned the gesture. "Er, I'm sorry about what I said before."

"Don't bother apologizing! I've been called much worse!" Micah waved it off. "Now, there are a few things we need to do before I can actually take you back.

Conditions. Of course. "I'm listening." Eric nodded.

"First, you need to accept the fact that God exists. But being a former demi-god yourself, I'm sure that's not too difficult for you to do."

Eric shrugged. "If there's a devil, there's probably a god too."

"I'll take that as a yes!" Micah chirped. Shinigami usually weren't too keen on religion, seeing as they were a kind of god, so this response was about as good as it was going to get. Fortunately for Eric, Micah knew and understood this.

"What do I have to do now?" Eric asked.

"Okay, so this next and actually last part is something that might be a bit hard, but it'll make you feel really good."

"Spill it." Eric hated to be kept waiting. Alan was becoming a bit impatient too, but he kept it hidden.

"You need to cast aside all of your sins. That means everything you've done wrong, every crime you've committed, you renounce them and leave them down here in hell where they belong."

The air grew heavier than it already was. Alan could feel the tension rise as he saw Eric's features slowly twist into a state of aggravation.

"Cast everything aside." Eric's voice was eerily calm, and yet highly unstable.

"Yes." Micah replied.

"Everything wrong I've done, every burden I've shouldered, I'm supposed to dump it aside and call it nothing."

"Pretty much, yeah."

Eric scoffed. "I collected 999 souls to try and cure my partner's disease, and you want me to turn it into nothing."

Micah pondered this for half a second. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry." Eric shook his head. "But that isn't happening."

"Eric!" Alan grabbed onto the taller male desperately. "That doesn't make sense! Why do you want to keep that horrible pain?"

"It's unforgivable, what I've done!" Eric growled. "I risked everything to save you, and this guy wants me to cast my efforts aside and say that it was all for nothing!"

"But it was!" Alan hated to say it, but it was the truth and it needed to be told. "We're both dead, Eric! Those things don't matter anymore!"

"Yeah, we're dead!" Eric jabbed a finger at Alan. "YOU'RE dead! That was my fault too! I can't ever forget that; I WON'T ever forget that!"

"Then simply allow yourself to be forgiven." Micah stated. "You can choose not to forget, but you can alleviate the pa-"

"Don't pretend to know what I feel, Micah!" Eric interrupted. He was fuming. "Saying that all my work and all of my guilt and pain were for nothing? I can't do that!"

"Stop being so difficult!" Alan yelled, actually angry for once. "It's done, over! Our lives are over! Just forget it!"

"I can't!"

"Honestly, you're too stubborn! This can help you! We can be together!" Alan grabbed at Eric again, but this time Eric pushed him off.

"Yeah, with a ridiculous condition!" Eric shouted.

"Everything comes at a price, Eric! Surely you of all people know that!" Alan began to tear up.

"Can you two stop fighting…?" Damacles tried to speak up. "Micah, why don't you do something so we can all leave?"

The young angel's mentor shrugged. "It's his choice to come to heaven, isn't it? We can't force him."

Damacles withheld a groan and watched Alan and Eric argue. Seeing two people so close at such odds was an ugly thing. The small brunette that Damacles had come to befriend was in hysterics, screaming and begging Eric to stop being difficult and forgive himself already. Eric was refusing and continuing to say that he wouldn't let go, that he'd put too much into his actions to say that it was for naught.

"Stop it, Eric!"

"I'm not making you fight with me!"

"I'm not fighting! I'm trying to help you!"

"LOOK OUT!"

The bickering ex-shingami were pushed to the ground. Metal against flesh greeted their ears, and a loud, inhuman screech was heard. Forgetting the argument at hand, Eric rushed to shield Alan from any danger, but upon seeing what had made the noise, Alan knew that Eric's body wouldn't protect him very well.

A large, black demon stood before them, nursing a large slash on its chest. Damacles stood before it, poised for battle with a majestic silver sword that was now stained with blood.

"A demon…!" Alan stammered, in shock.

The beast roared, aiming a taloned hand at Damacles. The angel swiftly dodged and sunk his blade into its skin and muscle.

"They're here." Eric cursed and stood up, keeping Alan close to him.

"Oh, so you could tell that there was more than one?"

Alan and Eric stood speechless. The former slowly turned to look at Micah. Micah was standing with his back toward them, blade drawn and facing down a herd of at least 7 devils. Every creature stood a head taller than Micah (who was an inch or two below Eric) with sharp curled horns and gargantuan teeth. Some of their claws were already bloody, fresh from a different kill and looking for another victim.

"Don't move." Micah's voice was low and commanding. Alan had no intention of disobeying. The demons on both sides roared, and the two angels who had accompanied Alan swung into action.


End file.
